"Wellmet tries to teach how to use people."

"No, how to trust people."

"No, how to be closer to people."

Judgments are made of the patient. "Is he sick enough for Wellmet?"

"What will the impact of living in Wellmet be on him and his life?"

"Will he go back and always make the shell that always cracks again?"

How much will he depend on the students? The extent of a resident's demands is a crucial factor in determining his acceptance. Too little, and the project's reserves are wasted. Too much, and the students are drained.

At first glance, life at Wellmet for a student might seem to be a continual draining. How can a student cope with academic and personal problems when residents intrude on him with requests to hear a poem, to amuse them, to reassure them, to discuss their troubles? What keeps the students going through the constant frictions, the harrassments not only of the residents but also of the other students in the crowded quarters? How can they resist the barrage against their emotions and personalities?

The students speak of escaping the alienation they feel elsewhere, of negating the impersonalization. But these are big words for an accumulation of small satisfactions. Jean Carmel thinks that because the students spend their semester at Wellmet in an atmosphere of real tragedy they are forced to draw upon their own deepest experiences to respond to and exercise judgment on residents. The responsibility is similar to that of determining the fate of a family member. "Certainly they possess idealism and altruism," she says, "but their most striking characteristic is a belief that they can find answers themselves. They do. They get back tenfold what they give."